Monday, December 12, 2011

I dreamed of a baby.
It was not my baby. It was my baby's baby. One of my biggest fears in this life of mine is that my intellectually disabled daughter will become pregnant. The thought of it terrifies me. I had her too young and it was hard. Like -- HARD, man. It's fucking hard to have a baby before you have your shit together. But if the young mother in question were mentally retarded? Shit.
Maybe I wouldn't be so concerned if she wasn't so freaking interested in sex, but she is. (Interested, that is, not doing it.)
I already have plans to put her on the pill the minute her cycle starts. And my OB/Gyn is behind me 100% on that. But it could still happen. I have had the hypothetical conversation with myself -- if she were to become pregnant, would I? Could I? Force her to terminate? I don't think I could.
But this dream. The baby was a miniature version of Whoopi Goldberg. Don't ask me why Whoopi. I have no idea. But the love that filled my heart in this dream for this baby was overwhelming and continued to overwhelm after I woke up.
But I still don't want her to get pregnant.

I think your fear is quite understandable. I have no words of wisdom. I do however think that you are doing everything that you can to help her avoid getting pregnant... and really, that's all you can do.